


Romance Imagery 101

by orphan_account



Series: Collection of short fics [14]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur galavant around on the beach in the middle of the night - because it's romantic, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance Imagery 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achelseabee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/achelseabee/gifts).



> Chelsea challenged me to include five things in a short fic. I managed four. Beta'd by me.

Merlin wasn’t asleep when the door to his bedroom creaked open and Arthur slid through it. Yes, he was in bed, and yes, he was in only his boxers, but his mind was sharp and focused. He was studying the pattern spattered across his ceiling by the night light across the room. It had been left in the little holiday cottage by whoever had stayed before them, plugged into a socket that was tucked behind the small room’s scuffed desk.

There was a pot of coloured pencils on top of a mess of paper and sketchbooks on the desk, which Merlin had abandoned after attempting to capture Arthur’s likeness that morning - he had been sitting on Merlin’s bed, his legs crossed and his grin broad as he gesticulated wildly, describing a dream. Merlin had only looked at Arthur when he wasn’t looking back, but the glint in Arthur’s eye over breakfast was enough to show that he had been aware of Merlin’s attention the whole time.

The blunted pencils and their translucent pot were the source of the night light’s distorted shadows on Merlin’s ceiling. The pencils’ uneven edges were amplified by the spread of light, which Merlin’s gaze had been tracing for at least half an hour, but they could not hold a candle to the sight of Arthur. His skin was a dusky orange in the night light’s glow as he crouched beside the bed, smirking and prodding at Merlin through his duvet. He was shirtless and the soft curve of his muscles looked even smoother, even more warm and real, in muted nighttime shades.

“I’m awake,” Merlin sighed, shifting onto his side so that they were face to face. He blinked at Arthur, holding back the smirk aching to twist across his lips. Merlin tightened his fingers in the bedsheets to keep himself from reaching out and tracing the edge of Arthur’s lips, rough with stubble.

He did these things - restrained his body’s urges, swallowed his throat’s cries of love - not because he had to, but because he _wanted_ to. Arthur always won everything far too easily; bets, races, drunken board games. He had won Merlin’s confessions of devotion and lust more times than either of them could count and, for once, Merlin wanted him to work for them; he wanted to be a little harder to break.

“Let’s go outside,” Arthur whispered, still crouching, his toes making dull noises as they curled against the wooden floor.

Merlin frowned. “It’s dark.”

“It’s _beautiful,_ I’ll bet we can see every star.”

With a groan, Merlin kicked the covers off his feet and rolled out of bed, running a hand through his hair and trying not to look at Arthur as he straightened up as well. He had already lost one battle against that crooked, hopeful grin, but he’d be damned if he let Arthur know it for certain.

They hurried out of Merlin’s room and through the dim cottage, their way lit only by the slivers of moonlight that were strong enough to pierce the cotton and lace curtains lining the windows. Merlin barely saw the harsh, solid lines of the kitchen table and chairs as Arthur guided him past them; he hardly noticed the jingle of the front door as it closed behind him, all he knew was the heat of Arthur’s hand grasping his own, pulling him along with gentle confidence and ease.

The cottage sat right on the edge of the beach, just before the age-old, scratchy cement of encroaching civilisation gave way to the soft, steady curves of pale yellow sand. There was always a good stretch of dry beach in this particular corner of England, even further south than the busy parks of London where Merlin and Arthur had played out most of their romance up until now. It was somewhere comfortably between high and low tide as Arthur dragged Merlin, slipping and cursing on their unsteady terrain, towards the water’s edge.

There was much less danger of waking Uther and Morgana now that they were outside the cottage, so Arthur let himself bark out a laugh when Merlin fell on his arse, filling his boxers with sand. It was wonderfully freeing, being outside in the dark with so little to cover his skin, and Merlin was surprised to find that the summer air was warm enough to keep him from shuddering, even without a shirt.

“Here,” Arthur said at last. “Stop here.”

He skidded to a halt, sending a spray of sand arching out almost a foot in front of them, and then pulled Merlin down to sit beside him. Then, Arthur leant in and kissed Merlin. It was little more than a clumsy peck to his temple, but Merlin could tell that Arthur had been planning the nonchalance of it for some time and he had the grace not to react - not beyond a brief brush of fingers against Arthur’s knee, anyway.

“Sometimes, I think you’re like a prince,” Merlin huffed without thinking, before cursing himself for breaking his promise of stoicism so freely. Arthur’s smile was small and intimate when Merlin glanced at him, and his fingers were playing across Merlin’s hand in the sand, so Merlin let himself go on after a few moments. “Like a from a fairytale or something,” he explained. “You’re very fanciful.”

“I am not fanciful!” Arthur laughed, lifting his touch from Merlin’s fingers to smack him in the arm. “I’m romantic.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “In impractical ways,” he muttered.

Arthur shook his head, exasperated, and darted over to kiss Merlin’s cheek. This time, it felt far more spontaneous - far less self-conscious and awkward - and Merlin couldn’t help but take a deep breath, almost disconcerted by how bone-deep his contentment seemed to run.

They sat and watched the waves for a while, listening to their quiet rhythm and admiring the way the black water glinted as it moved. Merlin stretched his legs out in front of him, pushing his toes through the sand and then wiggling them in the air, trying to shake off the worst of the fine, scratchy dust irritating his skin. Merlin’s toenails gleamed in the moonlight and it wasn’t until Arthur chuckled and nudged him that Merlin realised why his feet looked so strange.

“Is that glitter?” Arthur asked, a little indignant and very amused. “Are they sparkling?”

“Blame Morgana, not me,” Merlin said, bracing himself for a taunting. “She painted my nails while you and your father were out on that fancy yacht ride. I was powerless to resist.”

Arthur hummed, sounding unimpressed, and bent forwards to get a closer look. He pushed Merlin’s foot back and forth, inspecting the slight blue shine to Merlin’s nails.

“Well, we both know you don’t do well with resisting,” he remarked at last, settling back beside Merlin with a smug twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Piss off,” Merlin mumbled with a fondness he couldn’t quite squash. He dug his left hand deep into the sand at his side, letting it slide over his skin until his arm looked as though it ended at his wrist. Then, Merlin pulled himself free and did the same thing again, the action quickly becoming comforting in its repetition. He remembered watching his feet disappear beneath the sand when he was a little boy, standing at the edge of the sea as tiny waves lapped at his ankles.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked after a few minutes, craning his neck to see over Merlin’s body.

“Nothing,” Merlin said at once, a little embarrassed, and brushed the sand off his hand before standing up. “Come on, this can’t have been your whole plan.”

Arthur huffed as he took Merlin’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. “It sort of was, actually,” he admitted.

“Well, allow me to expand on it.”

Merlin set off towards the water, pulling Arthur along with him. The salt of the sea was thick in the air, filling their nostrils and teasing at their dry lips. Merlin closed his eyes and held his breath as he stretched out his foot and waited for the wash of a breaking wave.

“Fuck, that’s cold!” Arthur gasped as the water closed behind Merlin’s heels. He turned back to look at Arthur and grinned, his gaze resting on the pale skin of his cheek where it curved down towards his open mouth. “Merlin, aren’t you feeling that?”

“Of course I am,” Merlin laughed, his chest tight from the shock of it. “We’re still in Britain, Arthur, what else did you expect?”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect to be in the sea at all.”

Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek and kissed him, exhilarated and a little off-centre, before tugging him deeper into the water. Soon it was at their knees, then halfway up their thighs, and Arthur was cursing on every other exhale as he slipped over stray pebbles and shells on the seabed.

“What’re we doing, Merlin?” he began to ask, but Merlin interrupted him.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, his voice quiet but determined.

“What?”

“Kiss me,” Merlin insisted, pulling Arthur’s arms around his waist and slipping his hands into Arthur’s hair. “You want some romantic memories to take back from this holiday, right? You can’t hold my hand when we get ice creams in case your father sees, you can’t press up against me at dinner or kiss me when we’re making breakfast so just- do it now, here. Kiss me.”

Arthur was frowning, a curl of hurt clouding his features. “But I thought that didn’t matter,” he murmured, blinking slowly as he studied Merlin. “I thought you understood.”

“I _do_ and it doesn’t,” Merlin sighed, rubbing his thumb around the shell of Arthur’s ear, close and affectionate. “But I know you dragged me out here because you wanted to remember sitting under the stars and this is so much better, this is romance imagery 101, so just hurry up and kiss me because it’s fucking freezing.”

Arthur’s arms tightened around Merlin and he pushed forwards to kiss him, pressing their lips together in a perfect, soft heat. Merlin made a pleased sound in his throat and kissed back, nudging their chests even closer together and moving against the warmth of Arthur’s bare skin on his own. Arthur’s hands slid down from the small of Merlin’s back to cup his arse through his damp boxers, and Merlin gasped and groaned.

This slight parting of Merlin’s lips was all it took for Arthur’s tongue to make itself known. He licked along Merlin’s bottom lip and then pushed inside, exploring Merlin’s mouth. Merlin sucked on Arthur’s tongue, things suddenly turning dirty and edged with desperate need. Arthur pulled back and tried to push his leg between Merlin’s thighs as he leant in to kiss along Merlin’s shoulder and up his neck, stopping to suck gently at his earlobe.

“Not here,” Merlin panted, twisting his fingers in Arthur’s hair as if encouraging him to keep going, but still shaking his head. “It’s too cold. Fuck, Arthur- shit, we can’t. Not here. _Arthur._ ”

Arthur made a disconcerted sound and released Merlin’s earlobe.

“Inside,” Merlin said, pushing at his chest to make him turn back towards the cottage. “Let’s go inside.”

They splashed back through the water, laughing breathlessly as they nudged each other towards the shore, and then stumbled up the beach towards the cottage. It was hard to keep quiet as Arthur led the way back through the kitchen and into the bathroom. Their feet were coated in sand from the trek up the beach and it made them curse as they slipped on the tiled floor.

The air no longer felt warm from the summer day - it was icy and biting, drawing shivers and goosebumps along their skin as they fumbled to close the bathroom door and switch on the light. Merlin blinked when the small room was flooded with a brightness which caught in every crevice and imperfection of Arthur’s skin. Somehow there was a thin smear of sand across his forehead, fading up into his hair, and Merlin covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Shower?” he suggested, swallowing thickly, and Arthur shrugged.

“Obviously,” he muttered, pulling back the curtain and motioning for Merlin to step into the cubicle first.

Once the hot water was pouring over them, sending sand swirling down the drain, Arthur moved in and pinned Merlin to the side of the shower. He kissed him with wild, messy abandon and reached down to stroke his cock in torturously slow, steady movements. Merlin let his head fall forwards onto Arthur’s shoulder, feeling water trickle down the sensitive skin of his back and biting his love into Arthur’s skin as he inched closer and closer to coming.

**Author's Note:**

> The list was: coloured pencils, night light, Fight Club, nail polish, waves.


End file.
